Page 32 of Receiving His Mercy
So now he wanted her to move her mother? Was he kidding her? She’d only been here a few months. Moving her would surely be stressful?
Could he even do that?
“I’d like to see her now. I’ll also be speaking to her lawyer about this. Including the way you’ve treated and spoken to me.”
“Now, see here—” he blustered.
“I would like to see her now.” She was proud of how firm she kept her voice. That it didn’t waver or crack.
Even though on the inside she felt like she was falling apart.
Save it until you’re on your own.
Caren had learned how to be strong, how to stick up for herself and not let people pull her down. Generally, she did it with a smile on her face. It tended to put them off-guard.
But she couldn’t muster up that level of acting right now. It was all she could do to stop herself from losing it.
His face was red, bordering on purple as he picked up his phone to call the poor woman from the front desk. She looked apprehensive as she came to collect Caren.
“I’ll take you to her main carer,” she said, sneaking looks at Caren.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“For what it’s worth, the people who work here really care about the patients. Your mom is getting the best of care. Mr. Peterson is just . . . well, he’s in charge of the finances and running the place. Not the people within it.”
Caren nodded at her words, managing a small smile. “Thanks.” Several doors were open and she peeked through to find large rooms with a double bed and small lounge area. They looked like mini-studio apartments. And she relaxed further.
“Hey, Brenna, this is Ms. Stanford. Martha’s daughter,” the girl said to an older woman who had just stepped into the corridor from a room.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t know what time you were coming.”
“Yes, sorry,” Caren said with a tight smile.
“No matter. I didn’t tell her that you were coming in case something happened. Didn’t want to disappoint her.”
Oh, Caren doubted she’d be disappointed. Well, maybe she would since it seemed she had Caren on her mind a lot.
“If you’d come with me, Ms. Stanford,” Brenna said with a curious look.
Probably wondering why Caren was barely talking.
“Call me Caren,” she said quietly. “Sorry, I’m still recovering from my meeting with Mr. Peterson.”
“Oh.” The woman grimaced. “Sorry if he upset you.”
“I think he wants me to move my mother because she’s upsetting everyone.”
Brenna sighed and came to a stop. “Do you want a polite lie or the full truth? I’m saying this because I’m guessing you don’t have the best relationship with your mother.”
She grimaced. “Listen, if you’re going to lecture me on visiting her more?—”
“No, no, that’s not my intention at all. Trust me, I understand that not everyone has a good relationship with their family. And, honestly, from what I have seen and heard, I understand why you might be keeping your distance from Martha. She is . . . well, she’s interesting.”
“You can be blunt. I’d bet she’s rude, entitled, self-absorbed and from what Mr. Peterson said, occasionally violent.”
“Yes, but this disease can affect people in different ways.”
“Oh, but she was all those things before,” she said without thought. Shit.
